


wait out this storm together

by calvinahobbes



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2010, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Napping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 00:18:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20479850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calvinahobbes/pseuds/calvinahobbes
Summary: Phil goes to sleep with a headache and wakes up with a headache. It's not unusual but it's the first time in his new apartment, and that seems to unsettle him further.





	wait out this storm together

**Author's Note:**

> Just a self-indulgent flop that I wrote because I was feeling sorry for myself.

Phil goes to sleep with a headache and wakes up with a headache. It's not unusual but it's the first time in his new apartment, and that seems to unsettle him further. His furniture isn't really his, and the light coming in through the blinds is sharp and falling from an unfamiliar angle.

He has coffee and toast even though he has no appetite for it. He feels too unsettled to get any work done but he still tries his best to work on his ideas folder and send a couple of email replies. He stands around and stares unseeingly out the window, the first time since he got here that it doesn't bring him any joy. 

There's a couple of random texts from Dan, which he answers with curt, despairing replies, before he writes, _”Sorry. Still headachey :/”_

There is no answer back, which must mean Dan is at a lecture.

He hasn't been up for more than a few hours when he gives into the urge to take a nap. He goes back to bed, falling onto the top of the covers, tugging a pillow in close to his chest. He falls asleep feeling sorry for himself.

He wakes after an hour feeling in a better mood. He can't immediately explain what has changed. There's the sound and smell of something heating in the microwave, quiet shuffling footsteps in the living room, music playing quietly through tinny laptop speakers. When he hears Dan sing along Phil grins stupidly. He yanks the covers up around himself, shivers into the immediate warmth of it and goes back to sleep.

When he wakes again there's something heavy and warm behind him on the bed. He lies still, not speaking or moving. When he reaches for his glasses on the nightstand he sees the vague outline of a glass of Ribena, still condensing, on the bedside table beside him. He slips his glasses on but stays hugging the pillow, not reaching for the drink or moving closer to the warm weight behind him. He takes stock and finds that the headache has cleared, leaving behind only the usual vague sense of frailty and unease that comes from feeling poorly for so many hours. 

He pushes the pillow away and rolls over to face Dan. He's sitting up against the headboard, reading on his phone. He looks a bit glassy eyed himself, lips slightly parted to ease his breathing. Yet something about him says he's comfortable. He smiles down at Phil, resting a hand in his hair, and Phil pushes into it without hesitation. 

“How's the headache?” Dan asks, and his voice rasps a bit, his nose sounding a bit stuffy.

“Think it's gone,” Phil mumbles and reaches a hand out to put on Dan's thigh. “Is your cold back?”

Dan shrugs eloquently. “All those germs on campus, I suppose.”

Phil frowns. “Maybe we should eat a green.”

Dan laughs, fingers carding through Phil's hair, which feels good. “A green? One single green thing between us?”

“S’pose it could be orange as well,” Phil grins.

“I’ll make _you_ orange,” Dan threatens, which doesn't make any sense. Then he says, “I ate the last of the microwave dinners when I got here, sorry. I’ll buy you some new ones.”

“That's okay,” Phil says. He doesn't care one jot about Dan emptying his freezer. He just cares that Dan came here, that he let himself in with the key Phil had given him, and that he made himself at home, and that he crawled into bed with Phil —- just because he wanted to be close. Phil’s stomach does care, though, and it rumbles its lamentation loudly. “Want to order a take-away?” he says. “We could get Chinese, that has loads of greens and oranges.”

Dan laughs. “You can't order the mushu pork then.”

Phil frowns. “Why not?” he whines.

“Literally no greens or oranges,” Dan teases, poking him anywhere he can reach until Phil squawks and pinches Dan's side in self-defense.

Dan clutches Phil's fingers in his giant supernaturally warm hand and holds them both aloft so Phil can't reach to poke him again. They lie like that for a moment, hands suspended in the air, not really holding but also not letting go.

“Thanks for coming over,” Phil murmurs. 

Dan drops their hands and slides down to kiss Phil's forehead. His chapped lips feels really fucking good against Phil's skin. “You're gonna order the mushu and leave me to actually order something with vegetables, aren't you?” he whispers, fondly despairing, and Phil hides his grin against his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from when Dan and Phil played Fortnite and Phil said, “We could just build a fort and wait out this storm together,” because I am a giant dweeb who just saw a gif on tumblr.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Tumblr post.


End file.
